I wish I had something riding on when the new pontiff would be chosen, because I knew when it would happen and I was watching when it did. But that’s what happens when one goes on vacation. Nobody knows what your life is like unless you choose to advertise it. I didn’t brood on it: instead I’ve put money on the Powerball jackpot in the office pool now that I’ve gone back to the office. The odds are worse than those of figuring out when the world would get a new pope, but it’s easier to handle losing on a lottery than on a prediction nobody witnessed.
There was also the pending issue of the can opener. I did buy a new one, and it works great, except that it is too sleek to handle large cans without toppling over. Funny that we can live in space (having moved up from just sending a man to the moon–and we sent women, too) but not invent a good can opener.
While I was gone my route to work changed dramatically. It seems construction moves faster when you don’t see it for a week or more than it does for the months in which you’re driving in it. I also received word that another leg of my journey will become a construction zone soon. So I drive around hard hats and girders. What else can happen to a long day’s journey to work that hasn’t already happened?
The office was glad to have me back. They didn’t have anything tragic or hectic occur in my absence, so even though they missed me they didn’t get desperate enough to call me for advice on anything. The worst thing that happened was a bit of confusion about finding a printer toner cartridge. That’s one thing on which you can bet one will run out while you are away.
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